


Rule Number One Is That You Gotta Have Fun

by littleconnections



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hand Jobs as bros, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:04:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleconnections/pseuds/littleconnections
Summary: “And you had sex how many times? Hmmm. Yeah, that’s not technically a bromance.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [hockeysmut](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hockeysmut/pseuds/hockeysmut) in the [wesmashing](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/wesmashing) collection. 



> This prompt...would not leave me alone so here. Have some fic. It's like 80% porn. 
> 
> If you found this through googling yourself or someone you know...please don't read it. Thank you.

The first time it happens it's because Tyson is a good bro who doesn’t leave his buddies hanging when they complain that they can’t jerk off because of a sprained wrist. They’re sprawled out in the living room, a movie on that neither of them is really watching because it’s sort of boring. Kerf is out with his girlfriend and JT was initially complaining about how his busted wrist means he can’t play any Fortnite and somehow that transitioned into talking about other things that are hard for him right now and then one thing led to another and suddenly Tyson was offering to help out.

“You serious?” JT blinks over at him.

“Duh,” Tyson rolls his eyes. “I’ve done it before.”

JT chews on his lip for a moment, then shrugs. “Uh, okay, sure.”

“Awesome,” Tyson rolls off the couch and stretches. “Your room?”

“Wait now?”

“Sure,” Tyson says. “I don’t think Kerf would like it if you got naked on the couch. Or do you have something better to do?”

Considering he was just complaining about being bored he definitely doesn’t, but Tyson still feels disproportionately pleased when JT levers himself off the couch. He turns off the TV and follows along behind Tyson to his room.

JT’s room is messy and the bed is unmade and for a moment Tyson stands there, JT right behind him and it has the potential to get, like, super awkward. Which it totally doesn’t have to be, so Tyson flings himself onto JT’s bed and grins at him.

“Come on, get up here. Do you have lube or something?”

It makes JT laugh and when they get arranged JT is spread out on his bed, lying on his back. He’s still mostly clothed, sweatpants worked down to mid-thigh and shirt hiked up to expose his stomach. Tyson’s hand is slick with lube and JT’s cock is warm and thick in his fist. JT’s hands are clutching his sheets, and his breath keeps hitching and Tyson watches in fascination, the creeping blush, the muscles twitching in his abs. He tries to make it good, keeps track of JT’s reactions, swipes his thumb over the head, goes tighter and faster.

It’s kind of hot, watching JT’s cock slide through his fist, and it doesn’t take long at all until JT’s face goes tight, then slack and his back arches and he comes all over Tyson’s hand.

Tyson works him through it, and then, when JT slaps at him, rolls over to the night stand to grab some Kleenex and wipe his hand off. He’s hard in his sweats but it’s not an urgent thing. He’ll take care of it later, for now he just feels happy and pleased with himself.

When he turns back to JT he’s sitting up and has worked his sweats back up over his hips. Tyson grins at him, and JT reaches out and brushes his fingers over Tyson’s cheek.

“That was good,” he says. “Thanks.”

The warm, happy thing in Tyson’s chest burbles and he laughs, face going scrunchy.

“Sure dude, anytime.”

 

Of course, JT’s wrist is still fucked and is going to be fucked for a while longer, so it happens again. JT asks and hey, Tyson offered right? It’s not like he minds, or like he’s not getting anything out of it, watching JT as he jerks his cock. He always gets him flat on his back, sometimes even without his shirt, and it’s fun, watching for the reactions he can get out of him: the twitch of his abs, the arch of his back, his flush. One time he even gets him to moan, deep and throaty and Tyson is so incredibly pleased with himself, incapable of stopping his hips from jerking forward.

When they’re done JT stays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, sort of dazed. Tyson cleans off his hand and lounges next to him, sweats kind of tenting. JT stares for a moment, then looks up at Tyson’s face and raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tyson says. “I’ll take care of it later.”

“Oh,” JT swallows. Licks his lips. Closes his eyes. “Okay.”

 

The next time JT stops Tyson with a touch to his wrist. His eyes flick to Tyson’s shorts and then up to Tyson’s face.

“Can I watch?” he asks.

“Oh,” Tyson considers for a moment. This is supposed to be about JT, helping him out, but JT’s gaze is heavy and hungry, mouth open as his eyes crawl from Tyson’s face down to where his hard-on is pretty obvious. It’s hot and JT obviously wants this so Tyson shrugs.

“Sure.”

He wiggles, getting his shorts out of the way and into a comfortable position.

“Take your shirt off,” JT orders. He rolled onto his side, head propped onto his good hand and he obviously can’t jerk off with the other one, which is the whole reason they’re doing this. JT’s eyes are on him, gaze laser-focused. Tyson bites his lip and pulls his shirt off, drops it over the side of the bed. He looks back at JT, maybe tilts his head a little so he’s looking up at him through his lashes the way he knows people like and wraps his hand around himself. He can see JT’s tongue in his open mouth.

Maybe Tyson should close his eyes or look away or something but—he doesn’t want to. He keeps looking at JT as he jerks himself, his flushed chest, nipples gone tight, his hard dick, back up to his face. It’s a lot to be focused on like that and Tyson whimpers a little, jerks himself faster when he locks eyes with JT. They’re very blue, he thinks, boring into him and JT’s panting a little as he watches, hips jerking forward against nothing. He doesn’t try to touch himself though, just looks at Tyson and Tyson wants to make it good for him. Spreads himself out a little, tilts his head back, gives a little moan and JT’s gaze grows darker at that, hungry.

He could drag it out but he feels kind of bad for JT, whose dick this is actually about, so even though it feels good and, like, warm and shiny to lie here and jerk himself off while JT stares he tightens his grip and oh he’s much closer than he thought he was and he’s panting, holding eye contact and then his back is arching and he comes all over himself and goes boneless.

“Jesus,” JT breathes out and then he rolls over so he’s basically on top of Tyson, cock dragging against his abs. “Fuck. Can I?”

“Yeah,” Tyson says and then JT is rubbing off on him and it’s, like, intense, JT’s gaze flicking between where his cock is dragging through the come Tyson spilled on himself and Tyson’s face.

After a moment Tyson remembers that he’s supposed to be helping JT out here and if he just wanted to rub off on something, he could probably do that by himself, so Tyson gets a hand around JT and JT groans and they’re, like, really close to each other, faces almost touching. Tyson wants to touch him more, wants to put his hands all over JT and maybe his mouth but this is about helping a buddy out. He keeps it steady and watches JT’s face when he comes, adding to the mess already spread over Tyson’s abs.

JT flops over to the side, eyes closed and still panting a little. Tyson looks at him and feels all warm and happy, especially when JT cracks open an eye and smiles at him.

“Really knocked it out of the park there, huh?” he says and Tyson giggles a little and then rolls close and JT lets him and drags his hand through Tyson’s curls, scratching his head. Tyson tucks his head into JT’s shoulder and closes his eyes, pleased and happy and warm.

 

So, maybe that last time had gotten a little closer and more intimate than any ‘jerk a buddy off’ session with Tyson had ever gotten before but to be fair it wasn’t like it got awkward with JT or anything. After a little cuddle session Tyson had picked himself up and gone to shower and later he’d seen JT for dinner and everything had been normal.

Everything is still normal. Tyson doesn’t know why he’s obsessing about this. They go on a road trip and JT doesn’t come with them. He texts Tyson like normal though, updates about his wrist and complaints about not being able to make food and eat properly. He doesn’t mention jerking off once and of course, why would he? It’s not like Tyson can help him out with that now.

Tyson still thinks about it though. It’s what his mind slides to when he’s jerking off by himself in his hotel room, the way it had been so hot to have JT looking at him like that, like Tyson jerking himself off was so good for him. It makes him flush, hot and desperate, the idea that a thing he does can get JT off like that, that he can be good like that. It’s not weird to want that, to make things good for your buddy.

It’s good. Bromantic.

They play okay on their road trip and after five days they’re back in Denver. Tyson walks into the house behind Kerf, who stops by the living room to say hi to JT, then makes his way to his room. It’s late, but not super late. Early enough that Tyson considers joining JT on the couch to watch an episode of…something he doesn’t recognize. Maybe not then.

“Hey,” JT says and his eyes flick down the hallways where Kerf disappeared. “So, what we were doing before, that’s still on right?”

It takes Tyson a moment to catch up before he realizes JT means the hand jobs. “Oh yeah, of course!”

“Cool.” JT’s kind of blushing behind his beard. It’s coming in nicely and Tyson really likes it. It looks good and he kind of wants to touch it. Then it hits him.

“Oh,” he says. “You want to now? I mean it’s been like five days for you—”

The TV turns off and JT stands up. Tyson blinks.

“My room?” JT asks.

“Sure.” Tyson smiles and JT smiles back and then they’re off. Tyson drops off his stuff in his room. He’s still wearing his sweats and hoodie from and the plane and for a moment he wildly considers—what? Changing? What for, if anything he’s just going to be taking them off in JT’s room. He pauses for a second, then does strip off the hoodie. It’ll be too warm for it anyway.

JT is already in bed, naked and stretched out and for a moment Tyson wants to like…climb all over him? Kiss him? Something anyway, and for a moment he feels awkward standing there in JT’s room fully clothed but then JT looks at him and says: “Come here.”

He does, scrambling to get on the bed and then once he’s there it’s easy to fall back onto what he knows, what’s been established. Get his hand wet, get it on JT’s cock, get him hard, jerk him off.

JT is touching him this time, which is new. He’s using his good hand, brushing it through Tyson’s hair, pulling a little, over his neck, his shoulders and this would probably be more overwhelming if Tyson wasn’t wearing clothes but it’s still nice. Like JT is appreciating him or something.

JT’s hand drags to Tyson’s face and he stops in front of his mouth, fingers resting on his lips.

“Open,” JT says and when Tyson does he slides two fingers into his mouth. “Suck.”

Tyson does. He doesn’t know why he does but if this is what JT wants then he can do it for him. He hollows his cheeks, gets JT’s fingers wet, moves his tongue against them. They slide in and out of his mouth and JT’s eyes are hooded as he watches, apparently not even caring that Tyson’s hand on his cock has slowed.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “That’s good.”

Tyson whimpers and JT’s gaze sharpens.

“You like that?” he asks. “You like me telling you you’re good?”

Tyson makes an embarrassing noise and, like, jerks forward with his whole body. JT smiles at him, affectionate, and slides his fingers out of Tyson’s mouth, down his arm and wraps his hand around the one Tyson still has curled around his cock.

“Get to it then.”

His hand stays with Tyson’s, spit-slicked, big and warm and he keeps watching Tyson. It’s intense, the way JT doesn’t look away from his face and Tyson feels hot, thinks he’s probably blushing. He hopes he looks good. He hopes JT pulls his hair again.

When JT comes Tyson’s whole body feels warm and now his own hard-on seems insistent and unignorable, like he’ll combust if he doesn’t get a hand on himself right now. And, well. JT had liked watching him last time, so he shoves his pants down a bit and takes himself in hand, fingers still covered in JT’s come.

“Oh fuck,” JT blurts out. He’s a mess, red and sweaty and Tyson whimpers a little looking at him, jerks himself faster.

“Please,” he says. He doesn’t even know what he’s asking for but JT seems to because his gaze sharpens and he reaches out, just resting his hand on Tyson’s mouth.

“Do it,” he says. “Come.”

Tyson gasps and— does.

When he comes down from the post-orgasmic high he feels weirdly embarrassed about it. He’s still flushed, JT running his fingers gently through his hair and Tyson can’t look at him so he tucks his dick back into his sweats and let’s himself be pulled in. Let’s his face rest against JT’s neck for just a moment, feels his firm hand on the back of his neck and then pulls away.

“’Night,” he grins. “Sleep tight.”

“’Night.”

Tyson slips back into his own room, tucks himself in between his cold sheets and luckily falls asleep almost instantly.

 

The next day JT comes back from the doctors and his hand isn’t wrapped up anymore. He looks very cheerful and of course, why wouldn’t he be. It means that he can start practicing with them again, play again. Be a part of the team.

“So I guess you’re not gonna need me anymore,” Tyson says and he tries to sound cheerful about it. He should be cheerful about it, this whole thing was about helping JT out, he should be glad that JT can take care of himself again.

“Yeah,” JT looks at him and his gaze is still heavy. “I was thinking I could get you back though? You know, kind of as a thank you for helping me out?”

Tyson feels like he’s swallowed his own tongue. He can’t get the words out so he settles for nodding, overeager probably, but JT just smiles at him, indulgent.

Kerf yells something from the kitchen.

“Later,” JT says and walks off to see what Kerf wants, leaving Tyson standing there with a dry mouth and a racing heart.

 

Later turns out to be later that afternoon, when JT slips into Tyson’s room before they settle down to nap. Tyson is already in bed, lounging in just briefs and a t-shirt and JT hesitates at the edge of the bed, looking down at him.

“If you want to,” he says.

Tyson wants to, Tyson wants to so badly, so he scooches to make room, tugs his shirt over his head and shimmies out of his underwear. JT climbs in next to him, and they settle in on their sides, facing each other with the sheets shoved away.

JT takes his time with him, touching his skin, shoulders, chest, abs, firm hands trailing down to squeeze his ass, then up again, eyes flicking between his hands and Tyson’s face. He gets his mouth on him too, beard scraping along Tyson’s pecs as he mouths at his nipple, teeth scraping over sensitive skin.

“JT,” Tyson whines, panting, flushed.

“Needy,” JT says but it sounds fond and approving. His hand moves down again, dragging over skin, then wraps around Tyson’s cock, slick and tight.

“Why don’t you just enjoy this,” he whispers in Tyson’s ear, voice raspy, “since this your reward for being so good to me.”

Tyson moans and jerks forward into JT’s hand. He’s flushed and hot all over, wants to crawl out of his skin. He’d do anything to make sure JT keeps touching him, keeps talking. Luckily, he doesn’t have to: JT’s hand stays tight on his dick, the other curled around the back of his neck. They’re close, so close Tyson feels the heat off JT’s skin and JT murmurs in his ear, tells him how good he is. He feels like he’s going to shatter. He feels like JT is taking him apart and when he comes all over JT’s hand he clutches at him, too tight, too much, but JT just wipes his hand on the sheets and lets him hang on, soothing and sweet.

JT’s hand curls around the back of his head, cradling him as Tyson catches his breath. They’re still close, faces almost touching, breaths commingling. It’s so much, overwhelming and Tyson closes his eyes, shivering. JT shifts and Tyson’s eyes stay closed and then he feels JT’s lips brushing over his, soft, gentle, almost tentative and...oh.

Oh.

Tyson stays still and kisses back. Opens his mouth, let’s JT slide his tongue inside, touch it against his. It stays gentle as they keep kissing, again and again, shifting against each other. Close, so close, bodies and skin touching. Tyson feels like he’s shaking apart, heart racing in his chest. JT’s fingers dig into his hair, his mouth is slick and wet and Tyson wants, so much, so much more than what this is and when they pull back from each other Tyson buries his head in JT’s shoulder and let’s himself be held.

It's slow putting himself back together, gathering all the parts of himself that have fallen apart but eventually he gathers himself enough to wiggle back and grin at JT, who smiles back, soft and already a little sleepy. He doesn’t make a move to get out of Tyson’s bed and Tyson doesn’t make him, though they don’t stay tucked up against each other, barely touching as they fall asleep.

Tyson clambers out of bed when his alarm goes off, looking at JT blinking sleepily up at him and he doesn’t think about why that makes his chest ache as he gathers up some clothes and flees into the shower.

He tries to gather himself under the spray of the shower. It was still just a hand-job and some kissing, no real reason for him to feel like he’s going to come apart at the seams, like the only place he wants to be is tucked up against JT.

He does though. Feel like that. The shower helps and the game helps. Nothing to focus on but hockey and everything is normal with JT, who grins at him and jokes with Kerf and only once presses his knee against Tyson’s, seemingly by accident. He doesn’t move it for what seems like an eternity and Tyson can’t focus on anything but that, the slight point of pressure of where they’re touching.

He still plays okay but afterwards he sees JT waiting for him in the locker room, playing with his phone until he and Kerf have their stuff together and they can drive back, and he feels it again: his heart beating faster in his chest and an overwhelming need to walk over to JT and wrap himself around him.

He does do that because they’re hockey boys and that’s normal. JT hugs him back and then they drive back and all Tyson can think about is how it’s over now. JT is better and JT got him back, there’s no reason for them to keep hooking. It should be fine. It wasn’t like Tyson went into this expecting anything but now it kind of feels like he’s losing something, like JT isn’t right there in the seat in front of him.

Tyson knows what that means, he isn’t that stupid. He wants to keep hooking up with JT and he doesn’t know how to make that happen now that he can’t fall back on their helping-a-buddy-out arrangement. JT’s even gotten him back for it and Tyson—Tyson still wants him though. Wants to hook up and kiss him and yeah, probably date him, now that he thinks about it carefully and he doesn’t know how. He needs help. He needs advice. He closes his eyes and leans against the car door. He’ll figure it out tomorrow, there’ll be someone he can ask.

 

“Hey, I need some advice,” he ambushes Kerf, whose standing in the kitchen getting himself a beer out of the fridge. Tyson spent all day debating his options and, in the end, Kerf seemed like the best option. He knows Tyson and JT. He has a girlfriend and a degree from Harvard. He probably knows some stuff.

“Okay?”

“Um.” His eyes flick to the door, but JT said he was going to play Fortnite and that usually meant he stayed holed up for a few hours at least. “It’s romantic advice.” He pauses again, checks the hallway again. “And it’s about JT.”

Kerf makes a face, but he opens the beer and sits down at the breakfast bar, gesturing for Tyson to take a seat too. Tyson perches at the edge of one of the stools.

“I helped JT out with jerking off because his wrist was fucked and now I think I’m in love with him,” Tyson says.

Kerf’s face goes through a series of expression like that one Ryan Reynolds gif.

“Okay,” he says. “Let’s...go through that. You helped him jerk off?”

“Because his wrist was injured.”

“What, JT can’t jerk off with his other hand?” Kerf asks and looks like it’s physically painful for him to say those words.

“Oh,” Tyson says. “I guess not. I mean he was complaining that it takes forever and isn’t as good?”

“And then you offered your services, sure,” Kerf takes a drink. “Jesus Christ.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. Tyson fidgets awkwardly.

“Alright,” Kerf says. “I’m still not quite sure what the problem is: you guys are hooking up and now you have feelings. Why not just keep hooking up and let everything progress naturally?”

Tyson stares at him.

“Because it was just a bros thing,” he explains, “and now JT’s wrist is fine, and he doesn’t need me anymore. Also it wasn’t feelings, you know? Just buddies.”

Kerf takes another drink. “And you had sex how many times?”

“I don’t know,” Tyson chews on his lip. “Maybe eight or nine times?”

“Yeah that’s not a bromance,” Kerf says. “I wouldn’t hook up with you as bros once, let alone nine times. I think you’re fine, he’s probably into you too.”

“You think?”

“Yes.” Kerf studies him, then reaches out and awkwardly pats Tyson’s arm. “Look, I’ll go to Marissa’s tomorrow night and then you can talk to him, yeah?”

Tyson chews his lip again. That does not sound like a fun conversation but it’s probably what he needs to do. He sighs, pouts a little, then nods.

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure bud,” Kerf says and then makes a face. “Any time.”

 

Kerf takes off for Marissa’s place in the afternoon, not before giving Tyson a significant look when he pokes his head into the living room.

“What was that?” JT asks. He’s spread out across one part of the sectional, dicking around on his iPad while Tyson messed around his phone, distracted and with his own heart in his throat, the conversation looming ahead of him. He doesn’t want to talk to JT. He doesn’t want to put himself out there like that, so he just shrugs.

JT raises his eyebrows and goes back to whatever he was doing. From the constant swiping Tyson would guess some game, JT’s brows furrowed in concentration. He looks good, soft in sweats and a hoodie, socked feet up on the couch. He’s slouching, lounging and Tyson wants to go over there and lie on top of him, settle against his chest.

He wrenches his eyes away and stares back at his phone, mindlessly refreshes Instagram. There’s nothing new, nothing to distract him and Tyson huffs in frustration.

He looks at JT again and is suddenly, violently sad at the idea of not being able to just walk over there and kissing JT, of not hooking up again, of JT not touching him, not telling him he’s doing good. He swallows against it, heart racing and uncurls to prod JT’s thigh with his foot.

“Hey.”

“Hmmm,” JT swipes then looks up at him. He looks concerned, a little, mouth full and pink and Tyson’s mouth is dry but he’s going to do this, he’s going to.

“I want to keep hooking up,” he says.

JT stares. “Okay.”

“And I want to kiss and cuddle and watch movies together and, shit, I don’t know— go on dates and stuff.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Tyson licks his lips. He feels sort of shaky but also happy, because JT is smiling at him, one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corner. He sets the iPad down and kind of sits up, opens his arms.

“Come here.”

Tyson scrambles across the couch and they arrange themselves, Tyson mostly laying on top of JT, bracketed by his legs. JT has an arm around him and one hand in Tyson’s hair, petting him.

“Did you think I wouldn’t want to?” He asks.

Tyson shrugs. It seems silly now, with JT warm against him, tugging at his curls but—

“I thought it was just buddies,” he mumbles.

“You’re unbelievable,” JT says and tightens the hand in his hair, tilts Tyson’s head back. The kiss is soft but also controlled. JT holds him in place, teases his mouth open, slides his tongue in. Tyson closes his eyes, let’s himself go slack, heavy. It feels good to be kissed like this, meandering, quiet. Not like it’s going anywhere but like this is the sole point of them, touching each other. JT’s other hand runs down his back and then to his ass, cupping it and squeezing. Tyson gives a little surprised jerk and JT laughs against his mouth.

“We’ll get to it later,” he says and gives Tyson another quick peck, then shifting to swipe the TV remote. “Movie?”

“Sure,” Tyson says, because he’s comfortable here and he’s pretty confident he can keep making out with JT during the movie and that later they’ll go to one of their rooms and they’ll get off together and he gets to have this all the time now. It’s amazing and his heart swells warm and full in his chest and he can feel the way JT’s chest rises and falls under him as he breathes and—

It’s good. It’s all good and it’s going to stay like this.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s cool and fun to be in love, JT thinks, especially when the person you’re in love with loves you back. 

Kerf says they’re gross and also that they fuck too much but JT still catches him looking at them all fondly when they cuddle on the couch for movie night. 

Besides Kerf is totally wrong about them fucking too much. They fuck exactly the right amount and if Kerf knew what they got up to he’d agree. Not that JT is going to tell him or anything but. It’s true. 

 

JT is already naked when Tyson comes into the room, propped up against the headboard, thighs spread wide and hand curling around his dick.

“Oh,” Tyson says when he comes in, stopping short in the doorway. His eyes get dark, flicking between JT’s hand on his dick and his face. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips and JT can see him swallow. 

“You wanna?” JT asks and his voice is low already, rough around the edges and Tyson is nodding frantically, pulling his shirt over his head as he steps into the room and kicks the door closed. 

JT watches him undress, dick fisted carelessly in his hand. Tyson tosses his shirt on the floor and almost trips over his sweats in his haste to get out of them. He hesitates over his briefs for a moment, thumb hooked into the waistband. He looks over at JT, chin tucked in and up through his lashes, dark and pretty. 

“Come here,” JT says, and Tyson drops his hand and climbs onto the bed, crawling over the covers until he’s right up against JT. 

“Hi,” Tyson says, and JT curls his hand in his hair and pulls him in, kissing easy and soft. Tyson goes with it, lashes fluttering closed and his mouth warm and firm and eager against JT’s. It heats up quickly, JT holding Tyson in place, pushing and insistent and Tyson meets him there, eager and responsive until he’s making soft little noises and hitching forward. JT holds him in place by his hair as he pulls back to look at him. 

Tyson’s flushed and his eyes are dark when they flutter open, mouth open and pink and so, so pretty and he whimpers a little when JT tightens the hand he still has twisted into his hair. 

JT doesn’t say anything, just brings his other hand up, curving it around Tyson’s cheek, thumb trailing over the arch of his cheekbone, down to the plump pink of his bottom lip, pushing in when Tyson opens his mouth a little. Tyson sucks on it, tongue wet and hot against the pad, teeth against the nail. He looks up at JT through his lashes and it’s not soft, it’s eager and slutty and JT groans, low, and tugs on Tyson’s hair again. 

“I think you should blow me now,” he says. 

Tyson grins, impish, and JT keeps his hand in his hair, guiding him down as he slouches and spreads his legs wider. 

When he gets there Tyson licks up along JT’s dick, open mouthed and wet before wrapping his hand around it and swallowing it down. JT groans again and doesn’t move, just keeps his hand firmly planted on Tyson’s head, his thighs spread wide around his face. 

Tyson’s mouth is warm and wet, and he takes as much as he can, lips meeting his fist and building up a rhythm, strong, hot suction and jerking off what he can’t take. JT watches him, the stretch of his pretty pink lips around his cock, the sloppy wetness, Tyson’s pretty brown eyes flicking up to JT’s face, then down again, like he needs to concentrate. 

“God you look so good,” JT says, low, and Tyson moans around him, looking up again and JT tightens the hand in his hair. 

“Yeah,” he says and urges him down further. Tyson goes with it, trying to take more until he chokes on it and JT lets him up again. His cock is slick with spit and so is Tyson’s mouth, flushed and wet all over. JT takes runs his hand down over Tyson’s head and to his neck, watches him shiver with it, before pulling him to kiss, wet and sloppy. 

“Alright,” he mumbles against Tyson’s mouth, “again and this time,” he gropes around on the bed until he finds the lube he deposited there early and drops in closer to Tyson, “fingers.”

Tyson laughs a little but he settles in again, getting JT’s cock in his mouth again and getting comfortable before he pulls off and grabs the lube, slicks up his fingers. 

The first push in is sloppy-sweet and JT revels in it, gasping and jerking as Tyson slips in and out, lips brushing against the inside of JT’s thigh, rough stubble and soft open-mouthed wetness. 

He gets a second finger in soon, opening JT up and it’s a stretch now, good and tight and filthy, a steady contrast to the slick heat of Tyson’s mouth back around his cock. JT moans steadily, hand back and clutching Tyson’s curls, urging him on, holding him in place. Tyson takes as much as he can and when JT looks down at him, mouth spread around his cock and fingers holding him open it’s all he can do to hold himself back from shoving up into his throat. 

Three fingers is more, wet with more lube and Tyson bites his thigh this time, makes him jerk on them and it’s not long before JT is tugging on Tyson’s curls again, bringing him up. Tyson takes his fingers out of him and JT clenches around the loss but then he’s kissing Tyson, open mouthed, tongues curling against each other. JT brings his other hand up, trailing over Tyson’s shoulder, collarbone, forward over his chest to his nipple. Tyson jerks into the brush, then again when JT takes it between two fingers and twists. 

“Jay,” he whines, hips jerking and JT laughs a little, kisses him again before pulling back. 

“Well come on,” he says, “fuck me.”

He gets comfortable as Tyson struggles out of his briefs and slicks his cock, big and flushed and pretty. His eyes are dark and hungry, blushing all over as he looks at JT spread out on his back. He scrambles over to him, one hand planted beside JT to hold himself up, the other on his dick, guiding himself into JT. His eyes close as he pushes in, in, in, stretching JT around his dick and JT jerks, not in any direction, just a full-body motion in response to feeling full, open. 

Tyson is panting by the time he’s all the way into JT’s ass, arm trembling a little and he lowers himself down to kiss JT. They’re pressed together and JT hitches his legs up a little, gets Tyson closer as he starts fucking into him. 

He’s touching Tyson everywhere, hands roaming his back, his shoulders, his ass as Tyson fucks into him, slow and steady and deep. 

“Yeah,” JT says, tips his head back and Tyson’s lips brush against his neck. “Yeah like that.”

It doesn’t stay slow and steady. Tyson gets a rhythm going, gets some leverage and JT angles himself up to meet him, one hand clutching the sheets, the other Tyson’s shoulder, urging him on as he gets that sweet spot. 

“Fuck,” Tyson whispers, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you feel so good.”

JT tightens around him at that and Tyson moans, fucks forward and JT has to get a hand around his cock, slick, tight counterpoint to the dick spreading him open. 

It feels good, all of it, every single part of his body and when JT’s lashes flutter open he sees Tyson looking down at him, sweaty curls plastered to his forehead, eyes wide and warm and hungry and JT smirks at him, speeds up his fist. 

“Come on,” he urges and Tyson gives a panting laugh, moves his hips, speeds up. 

It doesn’t last long after that, Tyson’s rhythm going erratic until he’s crying out, shoving in, and coming. JT makes a choked off moan, fist tightening and one, two, three strokes later he’s coming too, come splashing across his abs. 

Tyson pulls out and slumps down on him, a heavy, sweaty lump and JT reaches up, runs his fingers through his hair until Tyson shifts to kiss him. It’s slow, lazy making out until, shifting until they’re lying beside each other. They’re gross and sweaty, tacky with lube and come but neither of them wants to move, just lie there and continue to touch each other, every part of their bodies touching. 

Tyson yawns, right in JT’s face. He laughs when JT flicks him, then tucks himself in slinging an arm over JT’s side and wiggling until he can put his head on JT’s chest. JT sighs, then reaches over, groping around until he can find the sheet and pull it over the two of them. Technically someone needs to get the light if this is going to be a proper nap, but Tyson’s breathing is already evening out and when JT closes his eyes he can feel his limbs getting heavy. 

They can get it later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was that. I don't think I've ever posted something this porny before so uuuuhhhh...let me know how that went?


End file.
